The True Meaning
by YAY Productions
Summary: Michelangelo reflects his family and how apart they really are. He sets his mind to bring them all back together, or find out if they ever were. In the process, he discovers what family really means, and how everyone shows their love in their own unique way. Christmas oneshot, R&R.


**A/N: Merry Christmas! This was for RachelErica on deviantART, but I hope y'all enjoy it too!**

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It was a cold, wintry day in New York City, a white Christmas to be sure. People were bustling about, doing last minute shopping, while little bystanders watched from the shadows. They stood at about the normal height for any normal teenager, but normal teenagers they were not. Their skin was green was like grinch, but not a single hair covered their bodies. Instead of clothing, they bore shells, as well as brown straps that held menacing looking equipment. Weapons, things that no child should have, decorated their bodies. Despite the grim appearances though, bright colors covered their faces. Blue, red, purple, and orange masks fluttered in the wind. Not entirely holiday worthy, but vivid nonetheless.

"It seems there's only pick-pockets and petty thieves tonight," Commented the tall, lanky one. His mask of purple stood for good judgement, and judgement he held. He was wise beyond his years, reading more books in his short lifetime than most had times ten.

"Too dangerous for us. We'll be seen," The next tallest, with a blue mask, spoke to the others. He stood with one foot propped up on the edge of the building. His mask fit him aptly, showing all that he preserved security, loyalty, and most importantly, order.

"Well then, it is good tidings for them," One of the others snarled, cracking his knuckles. "They're lucky we can't beat them black and blue," He bore an angry mask of red, showing how violent, fast, and strong he was. Truly there was more brawn than brain.

"You mean red and green! Or gold and blue! Or white!" The smallest of them all grinned. "Those are proper Christmas colors," He stated rather matter of factly. His mask was the brightest of all of theirs with a shimmer of orange. It signified the energy of red and the happiness of yellow- a perfect combination. His color spoke of him perfectly. Enthusiasm, fascination, creativity, determination, and encouragement filled his very soul, and his bright blue eyes flickered with mischief.

All of his brothers groaned, staring at him. Shaking their heads, none of them quite understood him like he did them. Sure, they were family, but the rest of them were all so...serious. Dreadfully so, from his perspective anyways.

His name was Michelangelo, or Mikey for short. He and his brethren had been named after famous Renaissance artists. His brothers, Leonardo, Raphael, and Donatello, had all been raised by a man named Hamato Yoshi. He was their ninjutsu master, or Splinter as they called him. He was not as much their father though, not as Michelangelo could have wished. He trained them, nurtured them, but at times Mikey questioned if love was even in the equation. He was harsh, cold, distant, but he was their father nonetheless. Even recently, when Mikey was near death, Splinter did nothing but watch as his supposed son was threatened. He had consumed poison, a toxin that he had assumed would be healthy and make him stronger. Instead, it turned his entire body into a ticking time bomb. He didn't know how he could have been so stupid. And even though he had found the solution, and his brothers had come to the rescue, his father had sat there and done nothing.

Obviously, this bothers Michelangelo. Would it not bother you too, reader? The illusion of having a perfect family had drifted from Mikey's eyes, as I'm sure it would eventually drifted from your own. He longed for someone to look up to- someone who would accept him for he was. And for a moment, he thought once he had found someone like that. His name was Chris Bradford, but the man fell desperately short of what Michelangelo needed. He was ruthless, cunning, and worked for his enemy, the Shredder.

Oroku Saki wasn't really Michelangelo's enemy though. He was Splinter's nemesis, the man who took everything from him. Splinter's wife, Shen, had been murdered by him, and his daughter had disappeared. Mikey had a hunch though that Karai, Shredder's daughter, was indeed their sister. It was more than a hunch really. He had overheard a conversation between Splinter and Leo. It showed how shallow their family really was.

Their father did not trust them. He favored Leo, just like Raph said. He out all of his focus on the eldest, although it was impossible to know who was older. Maybe he was. But everyone saw it: a true warrior was inside Leonardo, and not one of them could deny it. He was a leader, and although he made mistakes, he was a good one.

Michelangelo glanced down onto the street below, sighing. All the colors, all the laughter, all of the family fighting, feuding, and bonding. Black and white, he loved it and hated it. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Craziness between loved ones, the holidays made everyone on a frustrated high. He wished with all his heart that he could be a part of it, but he couldn't. His family did not celebrate it. They had to maintain a strict, disciplined household. And when they broke out of that? Trouble to the most extreme. It was like when they had skateboarded in the house- Splinter had not told them that they could not, and yet they were grounded from going to the surface. That was what was most precious to them, and just like that he was ready to snatch it away.

In the crowd below, Michelangelo saw a young father with even younger boys. Four of them, with black, red, brown, and blonde hair. Different as the day was long, I can assure you, but a family. The youngest tripped and fell, his brothers there in an instant. But before they could even do something, his father lifted him up from the concrete and held him.

That was what Michelangelo wanted for Christmas. A true family. That was what Christmas was all about, right? Spending time with the ones you loved?

As you can no doubt see, Mikey's eyes have widened. A revelation of sorts has come to him. He knows that whether or not others love does not matter. What does, is that he cares for them. He will show them that as well. And as a grin spreads across his face, he makes plans to bring his family together.

As always, they head back quietly, slinking amongst the shadows, and silently taking out and opposition in their way. He hates thinking of it like that, and they do leave most of them alive. But once in a while...they make the wrong move. And their enemy pays the ultimate price. It was how they were taught- defend yourself and others. Wait for them to come to you. Do not go looking for a fight, or you will get one.

As they slipped down into the sewers, making their way to the abandoned subway station they called home, Michelangelo was thankful that Splinter had saved him. He could have died out there, but he didn't. He brought into this man's home, and trained to live. Maybe that was why Splinter was the way he was. You had to choose to live, not make little mistakes that would kill you. That was choosing to die.

The man-cave they entered was dark, but they knew their way around like the back of their hands. Of course they did, they had been there for fifteen years. But this seemed different somehow...

A slight, feminine hand flipped on the switch. Their only true friend, April O'Neil, stood there with a huge grin on her face. Even Splinter was there, and somehow April had wrangled a Santa Claus hat onto him.

"Merry Christmas!" She hugged each and every one of them, making his brother Donnie blush. It was small things like that which made Mikey know that his brothers had soft sides. Standing there, Mikey squeezed April back. This was his sister. She belonged with them in a way that he did not truly understand. And as she smiled at him, handing him a present, he knew. He knew that this was what family was really about. Getting together, laughing like they had and dancing when they defeated the Kraang. Spending time, playing video games, watching tv, or training. They cared for one another in their own way, even Master Splinter.

A firm paw was placed on Mikey's shoulder, and he looked up to see the man he called father. And he was his father, in the highest degree. He loved him, even though he often had a hard time showing it. They all loved each other. And for that, Michelangelo believed. He always saw on the tv that it wasn't about the presents, it wasn't about the food, or the singing, but it was about family. Getting together and having a good time, no matter how you did it. And here he stood, with his family gathered around him, all in good health. There were smiles, and eggnog, and pizza, and, and, and so many other things. April and Splinter had worked hard to bring them a good Christmas, and a good Christmas they had brought them.

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**A/N: So what did you think? Please review! :D**


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